


I knew I'd regret this

by kitkatpaddywak



Series: Grimmons in Vegas [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: I'm Sorry, M/M, Wrote this at 3 AM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2297927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatpaddywak/pseuds/kitkatpaddywak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif and Simmons are kicked out of a buffet, and Grif has an idea of what to do next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I knew I'd regret this

**Author's Note:**

> Posted by mincedsandwich on Tumblr: "Grimmons “Vegas Quadrant” vacation though. You know what that means? Drunken Vegas wedding."
> 
> You know I had to jump on the chance to write this.  
> Tell me if you can think of a better title for this, cuz my brain is pretty friend right now.
> 
> **I couldn't stand it anymore, I didn't know how to space paragraphs when I wrote this, so I fixed it, don't mind me**

"Jesus Christ, Grif! Can't you learn to control yourself?" Simmons shook his head and rubbed the small of his back as they trudged down the strip.

"Hey, it's called, 'All you can eat buffet' not, 'all we say you can eat buffet.'"

"You took half the food in two trips! I'm surprised you didn't fall on your way back."

"Simmons, I don't drop food." The other man rolled his eyes and Grif shrugged. "Whatever, it was shitily prepared anyway."

"'Shitily' isn't a word, dumbass."

"Shut the fuck up and look at this." Simmons turned to see a bar across the street, a neon red sign saying 'Paper Tiger '.

"Oh no, no way! We're already way behind schedule, and we need to get to the hotel and get to sleep if we want to-"

"It's only ten o'clock, lighten up!" Grif tugged at his companions arm to lead him across the road.

"No way, Grif. I already reserved-"

"Dick, for once in your god damn life, can you just live a little?" Grif looked back with stern eyes, and Simmons blinked.

"I'm going to regret this tomorrow." he sighed.

Grif's face lit up, "You're damn right, you are!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Simmons groaned as he sat up, his head pounding and everything from the waist down throbbing. "Son of a bitch." He whined, surveying the room. He was in a bed in some hotel that most definitely wasn't the one he'd booked. He was wearing his boxers and his suit gloves, but nothing else. There was a strange odor that he could only describe as old, hardened sugar. Simmons squinted against the window, but he couldn't make out whatever was outside. He could, however, guess that it was facing east, with the blinding light it was emitting. He felt someone jab his rib and he turned, surprised. "...Oh no..."

Grif, similarly dressed (or not dressed, rather) to him, was laying there, shifting and grumbling in his sleep. "Fuck." Simmons muttered to himself, not being able to get out of bed fast enough. As soon as he stood, he felt a sharp pain in his ass, as if the paranoia wasn't bad enough, now he had no doubt of what had happened. Dick shook his head and tried focusing on getting his clothes on, the leather gloves were _not_ helping with his jeans. He peeled the gloves off and tossed them aside, going back to pull up his pants before a shimmer caught his eye. A ring. "No, no fucking way." Simmons stared at his hand in disbelief.

That was it, the shuffling and muttering were too much, and Grif finally succumbed to consciousness. "God dammit." He mumbled, rubbing his head and turning toward the noise. "...Simmons?"

The other soldier snapped to attention and turned toward Grif. "Morning." he stammered, hiding his hand behind him.

Grif tilted his head. "Whatcha got there?"

"Nothing." Simmons replied a little too quickly.

Grif nodded. "Okay." His yawn was interrupted by a loud banging at the door.

"Grif? Simmons? You guys in there?" A familiar voice called.

Simmons slipped on a shirt and went to answer the door. "Donut? What are you doing here?" Grif called from the bed.

Donut raised an eyebrow. "You called me, silly. Told me to come right away!" He smiled.

"Sorry we couldn't make it for the festivities." Doc chimed, leaning into the doorway from the hall. "You did only give us an hour notice."

"The hell are you talking about? What festivities?" Grif cleared his throat, pulling on some clothes, himself. It only took a moment for Simmons to realize what was going on, his eyes widened.

Donut looked at him, "What's up with you, Simmons? Or actually, are you Grif now?" He chuckled. Simmons swallowed hard.

"What are you talking about?" Grif repeated. Simmons didn't move.

"Um, I'm talking about your wedding, duh." Donut shrugged.

Grif looked as if he'd been slapped. "What?"

"Yeah, you guys called us last night, all excited over your marriage, rushing us here to see the reception." Doc smiled, then winced. "You don't remember?" Simmons and Grif exchanged looks. The thinner of the two held up his hand, displaying his ring.

"Oh no." Grif shook his head. "Oh no no no, that can't count! We were drunk! We can get it like, annulled or something, right?" "Well,"

Donut smirked, "Judging by the limp Simmons is sporting, I think it's a little late for an annulment."

Grif looked at his husband, observing the way he was holding himself. "Fuck."

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda wanted to make it super cute at the end, but it just didn't feel right, so have deep regret instead~!
> 
> This is probably the worst thing I've ever written, forgive me. It was 3 AM when I started this and I don't know what made me think it was a good idea to do that.  
> Regardless, please tell me what you think, and if you want the super secret author's cut of what ACTUALLY happened that night.
> 
> Tell me if you want me to go on with this, too!
> 
> Also, PLEASE feel free to draw any scenes from this if you would like to! I'd be more than happy to link them within the story~!


End file.
